


Out In The Wild

by BadDancer



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 15:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadDancer/pseuds/BadDancer
Summary: "My princess, I wouldn't count you out of this game just yet. There's potential in you, despite what your queen mother might think. I've always known that great men cast shadows. And a very little girl could still cast a very large shadow."





	1. Windows

Her room was dark.

It was always dark. But that didn’t make it any better.

Sienna had been told the sunlight would make her head hurt worse than it already did, and she had no other option but to lay alone in the dark. Her only company most days was the nurse who came and went with few words to the child. 

She was so lonely at the moment that she would have even taken time with her father. He always stunk of something sharp and staggered about like someone had hit him over the head. Her mother had said a few times that something he drank made him that way. Sienna wondered why he drank it, then. Yet, at this moment, she still wanted someone, anyone, to talk to. 

Perhaps seeing another person might make the room less dark. 

The weak princess pulled up her scrawny legs from underneath her thick blankets and was immediately hit with a rack of shivers. Her cold, sweaty body ached as she hopped down from the tall bed. Her muscles burned as she landed on the cold, stone floor and took a few staggering steps towards the window.

Placing a small, clammy hand on the material, Sienna pulled her enormous curtains back slightly, peeking out across the gardens. Her dark eyes had to adjust to the sliver of light before she could see anything. Slowly, the bright white light of the outside ebbed away and Sienna could see clearly. Below her was her mother, beautiful as ever, walking along a sunlit path with her uncle Jaime. 

The two adults seemed to spend most of their time together, since whenever Sienna peered out into the gardens, they were there. Sienna wished she was as close with her own little brother, but their mother hadn’t let them meet. She always said that she didn’t want Joffrey to see how ill his big sister was, and that they would see each other when Sienna was well.

Sienna doubted that time would ever come to pass.

The sunlight painted the green of the garden with a soft yellow wash, making the world seem to be touched by gold. The reds of the flowers made the gold of her queen mother’s hair stand out among the deep blue’s of the bushes she was walking past. Sienna wished she could look like her mother.

“Oh dear, is someone sneaking out of bed without her mothers permission? I hear that’s punishable by death these days.”

Sienna whipped around, nearly knocking herself over in the process, to see her uncle Tyrion standing leaning against the doorframe smirking over at her.

“Uncle Tyrion!”, Sienna squeaked, a small smile inching across her face as she half ran towards her uncle to tackle him in a hug. She tucked her chin over his head as he hugged her just as fiercely as she hugged him. He was the only person in the world who wasn’t afraid to treat her like the wasn’t made of glass. Perhaps his hugs did cause a bruise or two, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“You’re back from Casterly Rock”, she smiled, pulling away from her uncle to see him smirking up at her.

“And the shit never flowed better”, he responded, pulling something out from under his arm, “The sewer system is running as perfectly as it can now. And I may have brought something back from my little adventure, little Poppy.”

Tyrion pulled out the large lump from under his arm to reveal two books bound together by twine. Sienna’s lips pressed together to form a longer smile as she gently removed the books from Tyrion’s extended hands. 

“My, I did miss that smile of yours”, he quipped sarcastically, narrowing his eyes with a smirk, “Always so bright, so all consuming. How could anyone have such a large smile?”

“The same way you can be so humble”, Sienna shot back, sending him a little glare. He chuckled, scrunching his nose in that way he only did when he was truly happy. She looked back down at the books and undid the twine. She separated them to see that one was on titled The History of Dorne and the other The Night’s Watch: A History.

“There seems to be a history theme”, she quipped, weighing the books in her hands.

“Well, you finished every book on the houses of Westeros and the anatomy of dragons I have, so I thought this might be a good change of pace”, Tyrion jested, waddling over towards the set of chairs in the corner by the window.

“But why Dorne?” she inquired, padding towards her uncle, “And why the Night’s Watch?”

“Well”, Tyrion drawled, hopping into a chair and settling in, “Dorne has a rich history, many battles and passionate affairs. Rather fascinating, if you ask me. And the Night’s Watch are tales of heroes going beyond the wall, risking their lives for the greater good, facing Wildlings and the like. I thought you might enjoy a few tales of heroes. We all deserve to have a few.”

Sienna flipped the dark blue and orange books around in her pale hands, delicately handling her new treasures.

“Besides”, Tyrion continued, smiling up at his niece, “You always did have a morbid fascination with blood.”

“Well, I’ll begin the book right away”, she replied breezily, still lightly tracing the edges of the book with her fingertips.

Tyrion smiled gently over at his niece, his heart warming at the sight of her excitement.

“Unfortunately”, he said disappointedly, “I cannot stay long for now. I must report back to my dear sister and her oaf of a husband.”

Sienna wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Can’t you stay here? At least for the rest of the afternoon? We’ll start with the Dornish book, work our way through like we always do?”

Tyrion smiled over at his niece, causing her face to fall. She knew what that smile meant. Her shoulders slumped and she pulled the books closer to her chest.

“I’m sorry, Sienna”, Tyrion said earnestly, hopping off of the chair and walking towards the little girl, “But you know how this family works. Nothing is overlooked, even if we wish it would be. I have to speak with your mother, then I’ll be back tomorrow morning at first light. I promise.”

Sienna tried to keep the disappointment off her face, but knew she was failing. She nodded her head slowly, running her fingers over the soft covers of the books absentmindedly. She pressed her lips together to keep the scowl off her face, but knew her uncle could see straight through it. His hand twitched, as if he was about to reach up to her but thought better of it. He sighed, keeping his eyes on her.

“I’ll be back, Poppy”, he insisted gently, giving her a reassuring smile, “Read as much as you please without me. Just be sure to recount the tales with as much vigor as you read them with. Do we have a deal?”

He held out his chubby little hand for Sienna. She glanced down at it, nodding once again before clumsily clasping it in her own small hand. “It’s a deal.”

Tyrion’s smile spread across his face before he gently shook her hand. The two let go, Sienna feeling like she was losing her window into the world outside as her uncle waddled away from her and towards the door. He spared her a glance before turning the corner and leaving her alone again, shutting the door behind him.

Sienna stood alone in the room, letting the sun drench the room in a small attempt at a way of feeling like she was outside. The warmth began to spread through the room as she sighed and turned towards the window, books still clutched to her chest.

The raven haired girl sat at the edge of the patch of sunlight and lay her book across her lap, pushing down her disappointment in order to consume the tales of lust and adventure that lay in the pages before her.

For nearly an hour, she sat there, undisturbed as she absorbed every Dornish tale from the pages in front of her. Tyrion had been right, there were more than enough bloody tales to quench her thirst for morbid stories. She was now on a particularly gruesome recounting of a Dornish prince who stabbed his brother through the neck.

Suddenly, Sienna heard footsteps coming towards her door. The heavy, slapping footfalls of Nurse Charity became louder quickly. Sienna, panicking, stumbled towards her bed as to not let the nurse know she had been out of it. 

Her toes caught on a bump in the stone floor that sent her sprawling down. Sienna cried out as she felt her knees scrape across the cobbled ground and was promptly shut up by her chin hitting the ground. 

The pain was starting to spread when the door swung open violently, revealing the nurse in her ever-wrinkled dress glaring down at Sienna with wide eyes.

“What in Seven Hells are you doing, child!”, she spat, marching towards the tiny girl, “Your mother would have your head for stumbling about like this.”

“Then you can just not tell her”, muttered Sienna, glaring right back at the stupid nurse.

“Enough of your cheek, girl!”, she sneered. Her cold, bony hands wrapped their way around Sienna’s arms as she pulled her painfully up to her feet. 

“What your mother would do to me if she saw you in such a state. I swear, whenever that dwarf comes around...”, the nurse muttered under her breath like a curse. 

Sienna felt her back ache as she was placed not too kindly back onto the bed, her soft blankets falling back over her frame. Nurse Charity grabbed irritably at the blankets and shoved them up to Sienna’s shoulders, effectively burying her in cloth.

“And quit your scowling”, she quipped, pinching at Sienna’s cheek, “No one wants to look at such a miserable girl.”

“Then people must hate looking at you”, Sienna snapped back, rubbing at her cheek where the woman had just pinched her. She couldn’t help it if her face naturally fell into a frown. It wasn’t like anyone was around much to complain.

Like a rat poking its head out of a hole, Nurse Charity’s head snapped up and around towards the window. Sienna’s eyes widened, feeling dread set in. She wasn’t supposed to open the curtains.

With a grunt of frustration, the nurse stomped her way over to the curtains and shoved them closed so hard they might have ripped off of the hangers. 

“Gods, girl! You know full well the sunlight will hurt your eyes and head more than you can handle.”

“I can handle a little sunlight”, whined Sienna, sitting up in bed, “I’m not that sick. If you would just-”

“Young lady, I’ve told you to be quiet!” snapped the nurse, her face an ugly red even in the darkness. The sounds of her stomping feet echoed across the room before she slammed the door behind her, leaving Sienna gaping with an unspoken retort.

She was left alone, feeling the darkness drown her once again.


	2. Shadows

The taste of bile spread from Sienna’s tongue to her nose as she lay hunched over her chamber pot, retching into it for nearly an hour. When there was nothing left inside of her, all that remained was the trail of sick that spilled from her lips like rain that just wouldn’t come to an end.

She was able to lift her head long enough to see little droplets of red inside the sick, making her want to retch all over again.

Septa Charity paced around the room, muttering curses to herself as her greying hair poked out from underneath her frock. Beside her, sitting on a chair lazily, was Maester Pycelle, barely moving and disinterested in the girl practically spewing her innards out in front of him.

“Oh, dear”, Maester Pycelle muttered, his voice travelling from behind her as he adjusted himself in his chair, “It looks as if it’s finally coming to an end.”

The dark haired girl wanted nothing more that to spin around and slap the old maester hard across the face, scream at him for doing absolutely nothing until her voice gave out. Possibly kick the old septa in the shins for good measure. But she was too weak to even try. Instead, Sienna diverged all her attention to trying to keep her muscles from spasming. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, gripping onto the sides of the chamber pot as if they were the only things keeping her from spinning out of control.

“I want…”, she struggled to choke out, sweat clotting across her brow, “I want to go outside.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option, your highness”, the old maester croaked, his voice passive as if he were indulging the whims of an infant.

Septa Charity scoffed, stopping her pacing and crossing her arms sternly in front of her heavy chest. “Wants to go outside, she says. Little thing never gives us a moment of peace…”

Sienna gritted her teeth even harder. “You really… really are the worst person I know.”

Sienna felt her face heat up with anger as her shoulders began to twitch. Her muscled burned, feeling as if they had been tied into knots all the way up her back. ‘The… the fresh air may-”

“The fresh air will do nothing for you”, Pycelle cut in, his chair creaking underneath him, “It may well make you even worse.”

The pale girl felt the sweat drip down her face, her hair sticking to her cheeks. The sounds around her began to blur together, the mutterings and complaints of the two adults bleeding into nothing. Her muscles continued to twitch, now turning into full spasms. She felt as if her body was trying to rip itself apart. 

As she fell to the ground, her body continued to convulse. She could taste blood dripping from her nose before the feeling of cloth spread across her tongue. The septa must have put the rag in her mouth to keep her from biting off her tongue.

Someone propped her up against the bed and tilted her head back before removing the rag and choking her with a concoction that tasted of dirt and puss. The medicine burned its way down her throat before whichever adult had forced it down her throat let her go and allowed the spasms to die down.

The young girl continued to twitch on the ground for what felt like an eternity, but she knew somewhere in the back of her mind must have been only a minute or so. They never lasted much longer than that with the medicine to help.

Sounds started to come back into focus as her muscles relaxed, though still painfully knotted. She could hear her septa screeching complaints, her voice grating on the young girls ears. The old maester had hobbled over to her to give her the medicine and was now hunched over her bed to support himself. Sienna was left lying crooked on the edge of her bedpost, her breathing ragged and nose spilling with blood.

“Oh, come now”, Septa Charity practically spat, collecting the young girl in her arms with little gentleness, “No need for all that fuss. No different than the thousands before this.”

“You go through it”, Sienna growled as the older woman placed her on the bed, her back protesting as it hit the mattress beneath her, “And then you tell me how I should feel.”

The septa glared down at the girl, her brown eyes squinted and wrinkled in an ugly fashion. “Keep your comments to yourself, little princess. Since the episode has passed, we’ll be informing your mother.”

Sienna felt her eyes widen. She tried to push herself up, but quickly failed. “No, that’s alright. You don’t have to-”

“Your mother specifically requested it”, the old woman simpered, her face twisting into some sort of triumphant smirk before turning back to Pycelle, who was barely paying attention to what was happening around him. “Come, Maester.”

“Huh?”, the old man grunted, turning his head lazily to the other woman as she gently helped him up to his full height and leading him out the door, not without Sienna noticing the smirk on the woman’s face that sent her blood boiling.

The young princess glared at the door as it slammed shut with all her energy, almost as if she might force it to burst into flames. Her raven hair spilled over her face, still sticking to patches of sweat. Turning her neck with great difficulty, Sienna observed the state of her skin. Purple marks shone on the paper white of her skin like wine stains. She had no clue where they came from, but she didn’t particularly care at the moment. All she knew was that she looked like a monster, some wild animal lost in the woods too long.

All she wanted to do was thrash around, destroy the room around her. It was a childish wish, one she knew wouldn’t help her one bit. But that was all she wanted, and it was all that was out of reach. Sienna whimpered as she tried in vain to kick her blankets away from her, her muscles screaming in protest.

The young girl continued like that, trying to kick around while at the same time whimpering and groaning in pain. Gods, why had she been made to be so useless?

The cycle of pain and protest continued until a sliver of light cut through the murky room, causing Sienna to freeze in place. She turned her head, neck still painfully stiff, to see her mother standing in the doorway. Her beautiful golden hair flowed down her back and her green eyes fell on her daughter with a strange mixture of pain and contempt.

“Hello, my love”, her mother whispered, her voice strained and uncomfortable, “How are you feeling today?”

Sienna felt herself twisting her blankets between her fingers nervously. Her mother always seemed to have that effect on her. The golden haired queen stepped softly towards the bed with grace. She stopped short of sitting atop the bed beside her daughter. Sienna’s little heart yearned for her to just take a place beside her, comb her hair in her fingers like she had so long ago.

“I’m fine”, muttered Sienna, swiping nervously at her clammy forehead, “Bit- uh, bit stuffy, but I can’t complain.”

“From what Septa Charity has told me, you’ve complained plenty”, cooed Cersei, leaning closer to her daughter as her lips tugged into a worried frown, “You know I’ve sent them here to care for you. You must cooperate if you’re to get any better.”

Sienna opened and closed her mouth, searching for the right response. But every retort died on her tongue. Had this been the septa or Pycelle or even Tyrion, Sienna wasn’t afraid to bite back, use her words where he body failed her. Gods be damned, she would act as wild as the Northerners Cersei despised. But in the presence of her mother, Sienna felt her mind go as cold as the rest of her body. No one in the world could make her feel so small. 

Cersei reached out and gently swiped a lock of hair from Sienna’s brow. The little girl watched as a grimace graced her mother’s face at having to feel the sweat on her clammy skin. The older woman tucked the lock behind Sienna’s ear gently. 

“You’re paler today”, Cersei commented worriedly, dropping her hand back by her side, “Perhaps it’s just the episode. Was it particularly bad this time?”

Sienna shifted her gaze. She didn’t want to tell her mother just how bad it was. That would only mean more time spent with the maester and the horrible septa.

“Is Uncle Tyrion coming?”

The little girl’s question made Cersei furrow her brows in disappointment. Her lips pressed together as she continued to look her daughter in the eyes. “I’m afraid he’s busy at the moment.”

Sienna squirmed slightly under the blankets, knowing that her mother wasn’t telling the whole truth. “He wouldn’t- he wouldn’t leave me here. Where is he?”

“Darling”, the queen insisted, forcing a smile on her face, “Perhaps another time. You need to rest. Besides, Uncle Jaime is nearby, I could-”

“Please”, Sienna pleaded, her green eyes boring into her mother’s matching ones, “I want him here. I don’t feel good. Please, let him come.”

Sienna watched as Cersei’s hand twitched, almost as if she was about to touch her, but quickly thought better of it. The girl tried her best to keep the hurt in her chest down as her mother retreated from her once again.

“Well”, she said smoothly, a practiced smile spreading across her face, “I suppose I should to speak with Maester Pycelle. He said he had some new ideas about how to help with your episodes. Some new potion or something of the sort.”

As her mother turned away, Sienna almost cried out. Nearly begged her to stay, or just take her with her outside. To bask in the firelight in the halls just beyond reach. But the words died in her throat with each footstep Cersei took. Within seconds, her chance was gone as the queen shut the door behind her, sending her one last strained smile. 

.................

“Why is it you won’t let me see my niece?”

Cersei rubbed at her temples in annoyance, the sound of her brother’s voice grating on her already frayed nerves. Tyrion had been demanding to see her daughter for the better part of an hour, refusing to stop for even a second. She looked to Jaime for aid, but he just leaned lazily against a pillar beside him, unsure of how to insert himself into the conversation.

“For the thousandth time”, Cersei gritted out, her teeth clenched, “She is weak. She needs time alone to rest.”

“Time to be alone?”, Tyrion spat sarcastically, rolling his ugly little eyes, “Don’t you think she’s had enough time alone for an entire lifetime? She needs someone there with her, someone to comfort her. She’s in pain, these episodes are hard on her.”

Cersei snapped her head around to her brother, her eyes narrowing. “And you think it’s you she needs? You and your little… riddles and books and jokes? What good do you think any of that does except excite her to the point that she has another episode?”

“Well”, the dwarf drawled, rocking back on his heels, “It’s better than locking her away in the dark, alone and miserable.”

Cersei could feel her blood beginning to boil. How dare he question how she cared for Sienna. Her green eyes locked in on his, almost as if she could burn him from the inside out. “I’m doing what needs to be done to keep my daughter alive.”

“Just being alive isn’t enough”, he insisted, meeting her gaze evenly and with just as much passion, “She has to want to live. If any one of us just went to visit Poppy, it might-”

“Gods”, Cersei hissed, trying her hardest not to ball her fingers into fists to attack the dwarf in front of her, “Why do you insist on calling her that insipid name?”

 

Tyrion barely reacted to her words, instead responding to her calmly with a raised brow. “Poppy. Like Milk of the Poppy. It’s sweet and full of dreams. Not unlike your daughter, if you ever took the time to actually speak to her.”

Cersei felt her face go hot with rage. She wheeled around towards Tyrion, ready to throw him across the room. “How dare you suggest-”

“Okay, that’s enough”, Jaime cut in, glaring at both of his siblings in turn, finally finding his voice in the situation, “This isn’t helping anyone, least of all your daughter.”

Cersei stopped in her tracks, held back by her brother’s words. Though she continued to glare daggers at Tyrion, she let her hands relax at her sides. He was right, after all. None of this would help her daughter in any way. That was where she needed to place her focus. She flicked her gaze over to Jaime, who was looking at her seriously before averting his own gaze.

The blonde queen felt her chest twist slightly. She knew, deep down, that Jaime could never love Sienna the way she did. She wasn’t his, and she never would be. Not like their other children. No, she was Cersei’s daughter and hers alone.

Straightening her back, Cersei turned to her brother, face set and determined. “Very well. We’ll… we’ll discuss this later. For now, please let her sleep. She deserves at least that.”

.................

Stips of blood orange sunlight danced across the stone walls as Sienna lay sore and bored on her bed. She hadn’t been permitted to move for over an hour, and the boredom was eating away at her brain. Maester Pycelle stood above her, absentmindedly wiping her brow with a cold cloth, causing streams of cold water to drip down her chin and neck. So she just lay there, letting the old man rigidly wipe away at her brow with no effect. What else could she do?

Time passed slowly like that until there was a knock at the door. Pycelle’s hand stopped, causing the cold cloth to flop down over Sienna’s eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut against the biting cold that made her eyes water. However, she could still hear the person who’d knocked enter the room, their footsteps careful and quiet. Perhaps Tyrion had finally made it, or maybe her mother had come back.

“Maester, I think it’s time we talked.”

Sienna’s ears perked up at the voice. She recognized it, though it did not fill her with the joy Tyrion would have. Instead, the deep tones of this man’s voice made her poke her head around more out of confusion than anything else.

“Uncle Jaime?” she croaked, her voice hoarse from her episode earlier. She turned her eyes to see her golden haired uncle in the doorway. He, however, did not seem to want to meet her gaze.

His matching green eyes held hers for only a few seconds. Sienna watched as he looked at her with what she could only describe as fear. That’s the way it was with Jaime. He never seemed quite at ease around her, not like Tyrion. But he wasn’t afraid for her like her mother. It was as if he was afraid of her, whatever that meant to him. The young girl had never been able to understand anything the man did around her.

As quickly as she saw it, his gaze left her and focused on the Maester above her. His face set in a grim sort of determination as he gestured for the old man to follow him outside. Quickly, the old man nodded back, his chain clacking close to Sienna’s ears and worsening her already horrendous headache. The cold cloth was left abandoned on her brow as the old man shuffled out of the room, out to meet the golden haired Lannister and closing the door behind him.

The interaction felt strange to the little girl. Sitting up and letting the cloth drop off her head towards the cot, Sienna strained her ears to listen to what was being said outside the door. Yet, try as she might, all she could hear was grainy fractures of what the men were saying. She leaned towards the door, trying in vain to catch some snippet of conversation and failed miserably.

She needed to know what they were saying. She knew it was about her, and she knew the general idea. But what if something in her condition had worsened? What if they were discussing new treatment she had to endure? She simply had to know what was going to happen to her. 

Steeling herself, Sienna swung her legs off of the bed and dropped down to the cold stone floor. The cool air hit her sweaty skin and made her shiver even harder than before. She swayed on her feet slightly, the movement making her dizzy. Gathering her balance, she slowly made her way towards the door. The room swayed slightly around her until she finally stumbled to her destination. She pressed her hands against the wooden frame, holding herself up as best she could before pressing her ear to the wood.

“...telling her she can’t keep this up.”

The voices were muffled, but Sienna could tell that it was Jaime who spoke those words. But who was he talking about?

“I’ve told her several times”, the croaking voice of Pycelle answered, his chains rattling around his neck, “We’ve exhausted all the methods we know of. There’s nothing else to be done.”

“She’s determined to keep her alive”, Jaime responded seriously, “Even if the girl is suffering in the process.”

As the pieces arranged themselves in her head, Sienna deciphered that they must be talking about herself and her mother. Who else needed constant care? Something in Jaime’s voice made her pause, though. He sounded heavy, tired. Like he’d had this conversation before. Sienna furrowed her brows in confusion as she pressed her ear further against the door, her cheek flat against the wood. 

“Well”, the old maester grumbled, the callouses in his hands grating together so loudly Sienna could hear it through the door, “Fortunately the girl won’t have to suffer much longer.”

The young girls eyes widened. What in seven hells did that mean? Had they found some new cure, a new sedative to keep her convulsions under control?

“What do you mean?”, Jaime whispered, his voice tight, as if he were talking through a closing throat.

Pycelle coughed, a hacking sound that pounded against Sienna’s ears and practically made the door rattle. “Well, I told you. We’ve gone through every sort of possible cure we could find. There’s nothing else we can do for the girl.”

“What… what do you mean, nothing else you can do?” her uncle pressed, the sound of his feet advancing on the old maester, “What are you telling me, Pycelle?”

Sienna’s weak heart hammered in her chest. She shook her head, hair falling against her eyes as every possible answer ran through her head. But only one thing made sense, and it filled her with dread.

Finally, with some form of hesitation, Pycelle croaked out an answer.

“My lord, I’d be surprised if she lasted another week.”

It was as if Sienna’s world came to a stop. Her breath was knocked straight out of her body. With Pycelle’s words ringing in her ears, she pushed herself away from the door and tried to stumble backwards towards the safety of her bed. Her breathing became heavy, her eyes wide as her panicked little heard tightened in her chest. As she made her way back, she failed to notice the old dip in the floor and fell straight onto her back, pain exploding all over as she landed on the cold stones beneath her. 

Sienna made no moves to try and pry herself off of the ground. Instead, she lay staring up at the ceiling, her wide green eyes spilling over with tears she hadn’t even noticed had begun. Her lungs burned as she tried in vain to breathe, shallow swallows of air ripping her throat to pieces. Finally, after so many years, it had been said. What she’d feared her whole life.

Her time had come to an end.

Finally succumbing to tears, Sienna curled onto her side let the sobs rip their way through her body. Her face became slick as she muffled her little cries, tears mixing with sweat. As she lay there, helpless and hopeless, Sienna made one final decision.

If she was to die, she was dying on her own terms.

.................

Hours passed as Sienna waited for the castle to go to sleep. She hadn’t moved an inch from her place on the floor. The cold from the stones beneath her had sunk its way into her skin, chilling her to the bone. Yet she did not even have the energy to shiver. Was this what death must feel like? She supposed she’d know soon enough.

The sounds of footsteps had faded into nothing for hours until only silence remained. Yet still, she listened close. Even the slightest tremor outside would stop her from what she was planning.

After nearly an hour of listening for any sign of movement, Sienna began to shift. She slowly lifted her aching body off of the ground, bones popping as she did. She gritted her teeth as she forced her way onto her feet. She felt the fabric of her nightgown weighing in her thin shoulders and swaying around her legs as she slowly made her way to her door. Slowly reaching out her hand, she wrapped her fingers around the cold handle and hesitantly pulled it open.

The cool draft of the corridor made her hair flutter around her face. The sensation sent a calming tremor through her body. She felt as if the breeze was caressing her face. The thought felt silly as she made her slow march through the doorstep. 

Sienna looked down the hallway, trying to see if anyone was hiding in the shadows. A guard, an insomniac, anyone at all. But there was no one. Her eyes narrowed in determination as she finally stepped foot out of her room, beginning her journey down the halls.

As she made her way through, Sienna took in the shapes of the shadows around her. Each one was different, mixing with the moonlight in it’s own unique way, creating new shapes and forms. Everywhere she went, the shadows grew. As she made her way down the stairs, she watched her own darkened figure mix with the inky blackness of the walls around her. The dark figures stretched around her as if trying to reach out and grab her. The thought of it made her nervous. She’d never felt safe in the dark.

And yet, through every hallway, every staircase she stumbled her way down, Sienna couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. That some pair of eyes was taking in her every move. She looked around her, trying to catch anyone at all, but there was no one to be seen.

Shaking off the creeping sensation, she finally made it to the doors to the garden. The place was unfamiliar. She’d never been permitted this far from her room. Sienna stopped just short of the exit, her little heart beating faster. If she kept going, she would never return. She knew what lay beyond, and it terrified her.

Perhaps she didn’t need to do this. Perhaps there was something that could be done for her. Some magical cure that was just about to be discovered. She tried her hardest to rationalize with herself, give herself another option. But she saw none. Just a dark room or a dark night. The choice was simple.

Taking a deep breath, Sienna held out her pale hands and eased the doorway open, letting in the night air in.

With a slight gasp, the dark haired girl took in the world outside with wide eyes. Gods, it was beautiful. She’d never been allowed out, but just seeing before her made her believe the beauty was worth the risk. The inky black sky stretched out for infinity, shielding the soft, green grass beneath her. Purple and pink flower were closed, asleep for the night as the moon’s glow danced it’s way across everys surface in sight. Sienna couldn’t believe what was before her. There was simply no better place to die.

As if in a dream, Sienna stepped out of the castle’s protection and into the garden. Her bare feet sunk into the dirt, mud squishing between her toes pleasantly. The soft grass tickled the bottoms of her feet, sending little shivers through her legs. She giggled slightly at the sensation. 

Gods, it felt beautiful. All of it. The whole world made her feel as if some part of her was being let loose, some secret bit that had been locked away to keep her sane was being set free. 

With eyes still wide and drinking in every detail of the world around her, Sienna reached her long fingers out into the air before her, almost as if she was trying to touch something that wasn’t there. The moonlight reflected off of her skin, making her seem even paler. The cool air wrapped around her fingers and made her feel invincible.

She stood at the threshold, squeezing her eyes shut so tight it hurt. Her hand was still gently reaching for something that wasn’t there. She took deep breaths, preparing herself for what she was about to do. Fear grew in her belly as she readied herself, but she couldn’t stop now. There was nothing left to survive for. 

With one final breath, Sienna bolted forward in a full sprint. Her muscles burned in protest but she pressed forward. The gardens felt endless as she kept going, her breath becoming uneven. Her chest burned, air becoming harder to access. Her hair whipped around her and fell in her eyes, keeping the world from her. She knew full well that this kind of exertion was going to bring on a whole new set of convulsions, and that was what she intended to happen. 

She turned her head slightly as her legs carried her forward, taking in the garden zooming past. The colors blurred together in a beautiful painting of greens and blues. While her head was turned, her toes caught on a patch of dewy grass that sent her falling violently to the ground. She flew down, shoulder hitting the ground so hard she feared it might have been broken out of place. Sienna rolled through the grass, the friction ripping skin from her body and staining the rest green. As she slowly came to a stop, she felt the telltale signs of burning and twitches in the backs of her shoulder blades. It was time.

Sienna lay shivering and sweating in the soft earth, desperately digging her fingers into the ground, letting the cool mud soothe her burning skin. If she was to die, she wanted to die in the moonlight.

Her spasms began to increase and breathing became harder. Her muscles felt as if they were ripping themselves from her bones. The world around the princess began to swirl. It was almost beautiful, the ground and the sky mixing together into some sort of unnatural painting. She did not feel as if death was there, but that it must be coming for her.

Yet, through the pain and the gasping, something made her ears perk up involuntarily. To her absolute horror, Sienna heard footsteps coming from behind her, rustling the grass and blocking the breeze. She couldn’t decipher who it was, especially in her state. Her blood pounded in her ears, sending an ache like no other through her head. But she could feel them, whoever they were. They were the eyes that had been watching her in the halls and filling her with dread.

No. They wouldn’t steal this night from her.

“No”, she whimpered, trying to make herself smaller as her body shook and seized, “No n-no no. L-leave me.”

Whoever was behind her clearly ignored her pleas. A pair of soft hands slid underneath her knees and shoulders, ready to take her away. This person was ready to take her only choice away from her, and she wasn’t about to give it up without a fight. Sienna began to thrash around like a wild animal, only adding to her spasms. She could feel blood pouring from her nose, dripping so far it reached her neck. She dug her fingers deeper into the earth, trying in vain to shake the man off and claw her way back towards the ground.

“No!”, she screeched, kicking her skinny legs as hard as she could muster, “Nooooo!”

“Calm yourself, my lady”, whispered a voice, soft as silk, “We wouldn’t want to wake the whole castle tonight.”

The man managed to pry her away from the ground and gently pulled her up to his chest. Sienna had never been held so close to someone before. She continued to try and kick her way out of the man's grip, but she was too tired and her body ached from her spasms, which were now calming, much to her despair. 

“My name is Lord Varys”, the voice soothed, soft and genuine, “I’m not here to hurt you, princess.”

Squeezing herself into a tight, twitching ball, Sienna finally gave in and looked up at the man who had stolen her long night. He was short, though not as short as Uncle Tyrion, and fat. So fat he felt like the cushions beneath her mattress. His chest felt soft and molded underneath her skinny form. He had wrapped himself in some sort of silk dress. His eyes were sharp, looking down at her as if she was a riddle he was trying to work out. His gaze made Sienna feel vulnerable, as if she had been cut open and laid bare before him.

Sienna sneered up at the man and curled up tighter, trying to touch as little of him as possible. He didn’t deserve her interest. He’d stolen something too precious for her to comprehend, and he seemed to care very little for it. His chest shook slightly with a chuckle, presumably at her weak attempt at anger, as he walked across the gardens and back into the cold castle. 

The shadows remained, Sienna noted. The dark figures stretched further and clawed their way through the light.

This man- Varys’s- footsteps didn’t echo like most people's. THis caught Sienna’s interest. She knew every pair of footsteps in the castle. She knew every person and what they sounded like from behind closed doors, but she knew nothing of this man. Perhaps he wore special shoes. He seemed to glide across the stone floors like one of the Dornish water creatures Uncle Tyrion’s book taught her about. His calm, careful demeanor made Sienna nervous. No one was this calm, especially after catching her where she was. Septa Charity would have been sent into hysterics, and Pycelle would have been blubbering all the way through, completely useless as usual. But this man was different. He simply carried her away, as if he knew what she had been planning all along. 

To Sienna’s surprise, he took her straight to her room. No detours, no visit to Pycelle to make sure she was functioning properly. Just a simple trip back to her door. Opening the door with little sound, Lord Varys glided across the room and set her gently on her plush bed. Sienna, to her dismay, unconsciously welcomed the warmth of her blankets as the man wrapped them around her small body. His face was soft, smiling down at her as he worked the blankets around her shoulders. 

Sienna looked him over, seeing a fresh bloodstain in the shoulder of his silk gown. She unconsciously lifted her fingers to her nose, realizing that the stain must have been from her. 

Satisfied with his work, Lord Varys began to turn away from her and towards the door with no other words towards the princess. The silence alone set Sienna on edge. It felt as if he was placing her somewhere he needed her, like a game piece. And she was nothing of the sort.

Something about the man was intriguing, almost scary. The air around him seemed to be different, sweeter. It smelled of perfume and tasted like sugar. Everything was somewhere between real and fiction. Sienna couldn’t let him leave yet. Not without some answers.

“Why didn’t you leave me out there?”, croaked Sienna, stopping the man in his tracks, “My mother wouldn’t blame you if you left me to die. She’d be happy.” 

She was still angry. Her natural frown deepened into a sneer at the sight of the man, but he was still interesting. Why had he taken the time to seek her out? How had he even known that she was out there in the first place?

His soft smile curled higher on his fat face. His hands folded together beneath the fabric of his sleeves as he turned back towards the weak young girl. 

“Do you truly believe that, my lady?” he inquired softly, keeping his hands folded beneath the sleeves of his gown. Sienna briefly wondered if he had anything hidden inside those massive sleeves.

The dark haired girl opened her mouth to respond, but the spiteful reply died on her tongue. She knew the answer already, and she simply couldn't’ say it out loud. 

“My dear”, he said softly, “To let you die tonight would be such a waste. There is hope for you yet.”

“What hope?”, spat Sienna, curling into her blankets protectively, “I’m going to die soon, anyway. That’s what Pycelle said. There’s nothing else they can do for me.”

“And you believed him?”, smirked Lord Varys, “We both know Pycelle has very little true knowledge on how to help you, but there are others. Myself included.”

Sienna’s brow furrowed, confused. Why would the maester be wrong? Lord Varys took another soft, silent step towards the princess, eyes boring into her. “What do you mean?”

Lord Varys kept his face calm, barely flinching against the little girl’s brash questioning. “There are more people in this world who treat maladies than maesters. I happen to know a few who could help with your particular ailments.”

Sienna furrowed her brows in confusion. What was this man saying, and what was he trying to get out of this?

“Why are you helping me?”, Sienna questioned, her face falling with disappointment and confusion, “Are you trying to win favor with my mother?”

“My dear”, he responded simply, “I have all the favor I need with the queen. No need for such flatteries.”

“Then why?”, the girl demanded, feeling her temper flare as the man looked at her with such gentleness and calculation that she wanted to hurl a book at his face, “Why help me? What do you possibly gain?”

That’s when Sienna saw it. A flicker. A slight shift in Lord Varys’s face that creased his brow. Then, in an instant, it was gone. As if he’d never had to think anything over at all. The change caught her attention, making her wonder what was happening in the man’s bald head.

“My princess”, he said quietly, yet with such conviction that it made Sienna’s blood chill, “I wouldn’t count you out of this game just yet. There’s potential in you, despite what your queen mother might think. I’ve always known that great men cast shadows. And a very little girl could still cast a very large shadow.”

Sienna’s heart stopped in that instant, her eyes widening. What was this man playing at? No one had ever said something like that about her with such confidence. Not even Tyrion. He looked at her as if she were something important, some piece of a puzzle, some mysterious thing that he was trying to decipher. It seemed, impossibly, this Lord Varys was placing bets on her. He believed in her, in something more hidden inside her. 

What in seven hells did he think was there to bet on?

The lord smiled, a soft sort of gesture that cut through his perfumed exterior. “Do not tremble in the darkness, princess. There is power in it. One must simply learn not to fear it.”

Then, with a small bow, Lord Varys glided out of the room and shut the door with a soft thud. 

Sienna was alone again, the darkness wrapping itself around her small body like it always did. Lord Varys’ words rang in her ears. His perfume lingered in her room, a sickly sweet reminder of what he’’d left behind. Through the dark, she could make out where he’d been standing, She lifted her head, taking in her room as if for the first time. Shadows crawled across the walls, making claw marks in the moonlight. But this time, the darkness wasn’t quite so horrible, the shadows not quite so scary.

There was hope in the shadows.


	3. This Is Not Your Home

“Send for only the best. If we’re to have a funeral, might as well make it a little more than a dull affair.”

Sienna twisted her body in the dark, turning her ear slightly closer to the thin slit between the wall and the paining she was hidden inside. The thin strip of light illuminated a stripe across her face as she peered inside the throne room. She’d discovered this secret passage nearly two years ago, a new point to keep herself hidden and away from her claustrophobic room. Apparently, it had been installed by Jaehaerys Targaryen centuries ago, a possible escape route in the corner of the throne room behind a rather large painting in case of an uprising. A smart move, Sienna conceded, and a particularly useful passage for her. 

For the moment, she was eavesdropping on Littlefinger plan Jon Arryn’s funeral, as there was little else to do. The thin man’s slick way of speaking had always interested her, the way he commanded a room from the back was particularly fascinating. She wondered if she would ever have the chance to speak with him in person.

It had been nearly six years since that night Lord Varys had carried her back to her room, giving her wisdom she’d carried with her since. And he’d been true to his word as well. The very next morning, Pycelle hobbled into her room, announcing that he’d found a mixture that could help alleviate her spasms. The only problem was that it did little for her weak body, and she had to take the mixture every morning and evening, though that was manageable. Sienna was simply grateful to be alive at all. 

And yet, here she was, still having to hide away in the dark. Her mother was still strictly refusing to let her outside the castle, and always had someone following her if she ever left her room. She insisted it was for Sienna’s safety, which didn’t seem too far from the truth.

Listening idly to Littlefinger prattle on about fancy cakes that must be served at the funeral, Sienna grew bored rather quickly. Most of the interesting conversations she could spy on had gone away the moment her father had packed away the family to go to Winterfell to ask Ned Stark to be his new Hand.

A small part of Sienna knew that she wasn’t supposed to know that, especially because her mother didn’t yet. But that council meeting had been particularly interesting, with many impatient lords and her brash father stomping around, declaring himself the only voice on the matter. It had been so funny to watch such powerful men scowl like petulant children who’d lost their toys. The mere memory brought a smirk to her face.

Yet, as a result, she was left with little to interest her in the castle. No shouting matches from her father with the small council, no passive aggressive mother complaining at the slightest grievance. Even her uncle Tyrion was gone, and with him every ounce of fun left in this wretched place.

The raven haired girl let out a sigh, deciding that this wasn’t worth listening to. She swore if she heard another remark about the importance of appearance she might claw out her eyes. Steeling herself for the journey back towards the passageways, Sienna stepped away from the back of the painting and turned away. She reached her long, pale fingers towards the wall, searching out the indents in the dark that would lead her where she needed to go. She’d carved them herself soon after she discovered the passages, taking months to map the area as best she could. Her fingers brushed over a deep arrow pointing her to the left, giving her the direction she needed towards the kitchens. 

She followed her self made directions, keeping her pale fingers on the walls beside her. She knew the feeling so well, she might as well make the journey with her eyes closed. The air around her was damp and cold, with very little room for movement besides the forward motion of walking. The cold made Sienna’s skin clammy and tinted it blue. After years spent secretly roaming the passages at night, the darkness had stripped her skin of it’s last ounce of color, leaving her paler than a ghost. 

“Fuck”, she muttered, rubbing her left hand across her right shoulder, trying to rub in any warmth she could.

Finally, she reached her destination. Her hand pressed gently against the false pillar that stood in the kitchens. Before she opened it, Sienna strained her ears and listened for anyone in the room. She listened close, but only heard the slight drip of water hitting the floorboards. Satisfied that no one was around, Sienna gently pushed the hidden door open, slipping through the slim opening easily. She landed quietly on her feet, ankles cracking as she did. She stretched up to her full height, her long legs crackling and popping from the exertion. She internally cursed whatever god had made her grow so tall so fast in the last year.

Her skin immediately flushed with warmth, the climate changing considerably from the frigid one she’d just exited. The ovens were running, cooking something for whatever lord had demanded his own personal feast. Her worn-in boots scuffed against the ground and she padded her way over to the pantries. She took in the scents of fresh baked breads and spiced apples as she went. She brushed a clump of heavy, limp hair away from her clammy cheeks, tugging the thick strands behind her ear with some difficulty. As she passed through the room, she snatched several snacks and stuffed them in her pants pockets. Her old tunic hung limp on her bony shoulders as her clothes became laden with food.

The silence of the room felt heavy on her skin, but Sienna was used to it by now. All she had to do was wait for her family to return, and she could go back to hiding in the walls, watching from afar. It wasn’t so bad, anyway. 

\----

“Why’s your mother so dead set on us looking pretty for the king?” asked Jon, leaning against the stone wall behind him.

Jon, Theon and Robb all stood in the washing room, dreading the inevitable grooming on the orders of Lady Stark. Robb was the first victim, already being sheared and shaved by Tommy, much to his chagrin. The room was far too hot for Jon’s liking. He’d rather be out in the courtyard sparring with Robb. But here he was, standing half-naked, waiting to get his hair cut like some southern lady.

“It’s for the queen I bet”, observed Theon, with his usual weasel-like smirk, “I hear she’s a sleek little mink.”

“I heard the prince is a right royal prick”, cut in Robb, getting his face rubbed clean.

Before he even formed a response, Jon knew Theon was going to make some sort of joke about the prince’s manhood. Predictable as ever.

“Think of all the southern girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick” he said with a smile. Jon didn’t laugh, finding his joke lackluster at best, but it seemed Robb had found some semblance of humor in the Ironborn’s remark since he began to chuckle. Once Robb was done getting pretty, Tommy pushed him out of the chair. Robb stumbled towards Jon with a smirk.

“Shear him good, Tommy”, he drawled, giving Jon a good slap on the back, “He’s never met a girl he likes better than his own hair.”

Tommy pushed Jon down into the chair as Robb and Theon laughed at him. Jon wouldn’t say this out loud, but he most definitely was not happy about his hair being cut. It was his most Stark-like feature, and it made him feel just a little bit closer to his father.

Seven Hells, he sounds just like a girl.

“Or maybe your mother’s trying to get you all pretty for the princess, Robb” said Theon, crossing his arms over his torso and smirking at the heir to Winterfell, “A royal wedding would make her burst on the spot.”

Robb stood there, gagging slightly. The only princess visiting was the golden one, Myrcella, who only just reached ten years.

“No”, spat Robb, gagging, “She’s just a child. Barely ten years on her, you sick bastard.”

“Well, there’s always the Sickly Princess”, smirked Theon, waggling his eyebrows at the two other boys.

Robb rolled his eyes, unsurprised at his friend’s antics. Jon, on the other hand, glared over at the ironborn. The joke was old, and it had very little humor left in it.

“What do we even know about this princess?” griped Jon. He hadn’t heard much that could be counted on as real about the oldest royal child. Just bits and pieces of rumors that spread through the seven kingdoms all the way to the Winterfell kitchens. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the girl. No one really knew her. But he didn’t feel too bad, she was a princess after all. Probably spoiled since birth.

“What’s to know?”, responded Theon, “No one’s ever seen her. I heard the queen has to lock her in her room because she has two heads.”

“No, I heard she has three arms”, responded Robb, crossing his arms over his chest. The two boys chuckled and Jon felt the tug of the shears under his hair.

The Sickly Princess was a mystery the Stark children found particularly interesting. Jon would hear them discussing what she must look like, what must have been wrong with her to keep her so far from the sight of anyone outside the Red Keep. Most theories made her out to look like a monster. Three heads, no tongue, eels for hair, he’d heard it all. Sansa came up with particularly cruel theories, seeming to revel in the idea that she bested a princess in beauty. 

Jon, unlike his siblings, did not enjoy talking about the princess. He didn’t care if she was a deformed demon or just some sick girl. She was just some faceless royal who he would never meet, so what was the point in wasting time or thought on her. He had other things to focus on.

“Even looking like that, she’d still probably never let you bed her”, shot Jon from his seat. 

Robb hooted, slapping Theon on the shoulder. The Ironborn scowled at Jon, which only made his more satisfied. Getting under Greyjoy’s skin always made Jon feel good. He needed to be knocked down a few pegs every once in awhile, and Jon was more than happy to oblige. 

“Doesn’t matter”, remarked Theon, elbowing Robb in the side, “She isn’t going to come. She doesn’t go anywhere.”

Jon shrugged, not particularly caring about the conversation. Soon enough, the topic changed and none of the men in the room paid any mind to the mysterious girl they would never meet anyway.

\-----

Sienna lay on her back, long legs propped up against the wall as she held a thick envelope in up front of her face. The morning light was beginning to creep through the windows, staining the walls orange. Her thick hair was fanned out around her on the stone floor of the hallway. No one was around to pass by or yell at her to go back to her room. She’d been sure to check that everyone was on the other side of the castle putting together preparations for the funeral.

Turning the envelope over in her hands, Sienna fondly recognized the impatient scrawl across the front addressed to her. Tyrion was always too busy to write anything legible.

 

Reaching to her side and feeling around blindly, Sienna wrapped her fingers around her little flask. Without bothering to look, she tipped the flask over into her mouth and poured her medicine down her throat, resisting the urge to gag. The concoction tasted like rotten eggs, burning her throat as it went down. Her eyes squeezed shut against the flavor, forcing herself to swallow the thick concoction and coughing as it went down, familiar with the whole routine.

Sienna turned over to spit the remainder of the medicine’s flavor onto the ground before turning back over onto her back, sliding her fingers through the seal and ripped open the paper, retrieving the letter inside. She unfolded it up in front of her face, the paper dipping down slightly and brushing against her sharp nose. The dark blue ink was smeared in parts, the scrawled writing barely comprehensible to anyone who wasn’t familiar with the style. Sienna’s green eyes roamed over the page, taking in each word carefully. Her chest pinched slightly, hoping for good news. Her uncle’s last letter had detailed the fall of one of the Stark children, and she’d written back immediately, demanding to know if the boy would survive.

Poppy,

I’m sure you’re hoping for good news about the Stark boy, but I’m afraid there’s nothing to tell. He is still unconscious, and his legs fare no better. His mother has not left his side since the fall, which is to be expected. I’ve given my sympathies, as was expected of me, but none of the Starks care much for my sadness. I can’t blame them, of course. I can blame Joffrey, however. The insolent prick refused to give his sympathies to the Starks until I had to resort to… possibly treasonous means. I do hope he remembers this in the future, however. It would do the boy good to have some sense slapped into him.

I’m now off to the Wall, like we discussed. As promised, I’ll bring back a souvenir for you. I’m thinking something along the lines of a dagger, something wielded by one of those heroes you love so much. I’m accompanied by Ned Stark’s bastard, who could rival even you in brooding and sullen looks, though he seems to lack your penchant for pissing off everyone in the general area. In the best way, I reassure you. Nonetheless, the journey looks dull due to the dazzling conversation given so far by my travel companions. 

My deepest apologies for being brief. We leave at first light, and you know how I need my beauty sleep. I will write again as soon as I can. There aren’t many posts from here to the Wall, unfortunately. Your parents are on their way back to the Keep, so prepare. Be sure to stock as many cakes as you can in your room before your mother gets back. I’ll send you every detail of Castle Black I can gather. One day, I’ll take you there myself. I swear it.

Wish me luck as I piss off the edge of the world.

The best uncle you have,  
Tyrion

Sienna ran her fingers over the writing, feeling the imprints deep in the page from Tyrion’s heavy handed writing. Her chest felt heavy at the thought that the poor Stark boy was crippled for life. She refused, however, to think that he was doomed to die. Many had said the same about here, yet here she was. She was sure that the boy could pull through, if given the right help.

The princess’s fingers twitched slightly, itching to reach for some ink and parchment and dream up a way to help the boy. She’d lost her trust in Maesters long ago, perhaps something she could dream up could…

But no. She knew nothing about things like this. Simple diseases, standard breaks. Those were things she understood, had mended on herself once or twice. She had no clue how to repair a destroyed body, let alone help a young boy come to terms with the loss of his legs. There was nothing she could do. Not for the first time did she wish she could run straight through the doors of the Red Keep and make her way out into the real world, but it was a fantasy.

Sienna also felt a deep sadness at the temporary loss of letters from her uncle. He was her only contact to the outside world, and he’d always given her hope that she’d make it out herself someday.

Pressing the letter to her chest, Sienna closed her eyes and dreamed of what the road to the Wall must look like.

///

Cersei stood at the edge of the Stark boy’s room, just out of sight of Lady Stark. She knew what she must do, go comfort the grieving mother, appear sympathetic. She knew the role she was required to play, especially to divert attention from herself, but she took little pleasure in it. Finally stepping through the door, her footsteps alerted Lady Stark, who scrambled up from her chair.

“Please”, Cersei responded gently, nodding her head for the Lady to sit back down.

Catelyn ran her hands over her skirt, her pale face blushing slightly. “I would’ve dressed, your grace.”

“This is your home”, the golden haired queen stated, walking towards the bed, “I am your guest.”

Cersei let her eyes fall on the boy in the bed, his soft face passive and barely breathing. Her face remained impassive, knowing that what had been done had been necessary. However, that was not what would keep her secret safe.

“Handsome one, isn’t he?” she commented, keping her eyes on the boy, “I understand your pain, you know.”

“My queen”, Lady Stark sighed, falling back into her chair with a defeated look on her face, “With deepest respect, you do not know what this is like.”

Cersei had to restrain herself from verbally lashing back at the woman. She had no clue about how true the queen’s statement was, and she had no right to tell her she knew nothing of a mother’s pain.

“My first child, Sienna, she was born… fragile.”

“I never knew”, Lady Stark whispered, her sallow face lighting up slightly at the little bond between herself and the queen.

“No one does”, Cersei responded, pressing her lips together, “For her own protection, I’ve kept the details to myself.”

Cersei chose her words carefully. She knew she needed to take suspicions away from herself, but this… this story may be too close. But she had managed to get Lady Stark to look up, sad eyes boring into her like a child desperate for a story. 

“She was born and I was so happy”, the queen continued, her voice barely restraining itself from cracking, “My very own child. She was so beautiful, with her green eyes and tufts of dark hair. She came out fighting, kicking and screaming, refusing to be held by anyone but me. A true lion from the beginning. And I didn’t let her go, not for one second. For three days she was held so close to me I feared we might melt together. I fed her from my breast, sang little songs. Gods, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.”

“She sounds incredible”, Lady Stark whispered, braving a small smile.

The small smile that had grown on Cersei’s face evaporated in a second. Her memories moved from their once bright and happy beginnings to the truth of what had become of her beloved daughter.

“But on the third day”, Cersei continued, her chest beginning to ache, “I set her down in her cradle. I was so tired, I needed to sleep and she was perfectly fine. She didn’t even cry as she was laid down. She never cried, the little thing. Not even an hour later I came to the side of her crib and saw her face had turned blue. She had stopped breathing. Her chest was shaking, her little arms thrashing about like someone had set her blood on fire. Gods, she was so small. I screamed for the Maester. I didn’t leave her side for weeks. They told me she had been born wrong, that she had been infected while still inside of me. My own daughter had been poisoned inside of me.”

“That wasn’t your fault, my queen”, Lady Stark whispered, reaching her hand gently over Cersei’s, causing the queen to stiffen.

“She lives, thank the Gods”, Cersei whispered, holding back the burning behind her eyes, “But she is still so sick, so fragile. The medicines only work so much, despite how much she fights me on the issue. I keep her room as comfortable as I can, keep her educated. I have no intentions of letting her rot away in the dark like some animal. It pains me every time I see her, but she is still my child.”

The golden haired woman felt her words stick in her throat. There was a burning behind her eyes she wouldn’t let Lady Stark see. Yet every mention of her daughter brough Cersei great pain. Her little lifeline, her very first child was trapped away in a body that never ceased to try and kill her, and there was nothing Cersei could do.

“I’ll pray to the Mother every morning and night”, she stated firmly, holding in the tears and hardening her face, “Perhaps this time she’ll listen.”

With that, Cersei turned away from the boy she broke and stepped out the door, one solitary tear slipping away from her grasp and down her cheek.

\----

“Mother, I swear, I’m fine.”

Sienna stood at the foot of her bed, pleading with her mother. The royal caravan had arrived only a day prior, and already Cersei was berating her. She’d found the dark haired girl in the hallway, only a few minutes after she’d exited a tunnel behind the Keep’s walls. Luckily, she hadn’t seen her exiting the tunnels, just wandering, and immediately sprung into action, dragging her daughter back to her room. Sienna, for all her boasting and anger, couldn’t bring herself to fight her mother, though every part of her body yearned to do so.

Instead, her mother looked at her with her wide green eyes and shook her head. “If I’d known you were dashing around the castle- I should have that nurse sent to the dungeons for this.”

“I was just walking through the halls”, Sienna insisted, her head ducked and shoulders hunched nervously, “I promise I took my medicine beforehand, and I was careful-”

“Careful?”, Cersei huffed, spine straightening in anger, “What’s careful? You risking another episode to what? Prance around the Red Keep? It’s as if you’re trying to get yourself killed.”

Sienna felt her scowl deepen on her face, cheeks heating up in anger. “Yes, mother. I’m trying to kill myself. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Don’t you dare joke about that”, her mother spat, golden hair falling in tendrils around her face, “After everything I’ve done for you, don’t you ever jest about that.”

Sienna curled in even tighter on herself, her hair falling over her face like a curtain, shielding her from her mother. She took an involuntary step back, her legs hitting the edge of her bed with a thud. The room was suddenly drowned in silence. Neither woman knew what there was to say. Sienna stood shock still, her muscles locked in place like a scared animal. Yet anger still boiled inside her like poison. Cersei, on the other hand, stood tall, staring at her daughter with narrowed eyes, infuriatingly calm. With a sigh, her mother shook her head, her face falling into a scowl.

“Well”, she sighed, clasping her hands in front of her torso, “I suppose that’s enough for the day. I have important matters to discuss with Jaime. I’ll leave you to… whatever it is you wish, I suppose.”

“I wish to leave this fucking room”, Sienna grumbled under her breath, brushing her hair out of her face.

Cersei stopped mid-step, her back stiff. Sienna felt her heartbeat speed up as the queen turned around, her face stony. “What was that?”

Frozen in place, the dark haired girl felt her whole body slump in defeat. “Nothing, mother.”

Casting her daughter one last glare, Cersei turned back around, gliding out of the room with a grace Sienna could never dream to match. The thud of the door closing made her slump back down onto her bed, feeling completely drained. Her body shuddered with fear, feeling the chill her mother left behind still hanging in the air.

She wished deeply that Tyrion was here. He’d always been on her side, even on occasion able to convince her mother that she deserved to have a few spare moments out in the halls, which was a miracle unto itself. Now she was left without him for another week while he returned from the wall. It had been nearly two weeks since his last letter, and she missed his company dearly.

Reaching over to her nightstand, Sienna snatched up his last letter and held it up to her face. She reread every word, taking in every ounce of whatever comfort it could give her. Her shivers died down as she ran her hands over the ink. Each word described the Wall, it’s heroes, how he would take her there someday. Her heart swelled at the idea.

Sienna squeezed her eyes shut, thinking hard and trying to picture what Castle Black must look like. Her knowledge of the books and her uncle’s letters blended together to paint a beautiful picture. Snow so deep she might sink in completely, sunlight glinting off the icy wall. Trees taller than any in King’s Landing. Black clad men with strong, heroic faces. It was all a beautiful picture in her mind.

Sienna pressed the letter to her chest, letting out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. She knew what Tyrion would say to her mother now, and she knew what she wanted to do. No one was keeping her locked up in this room, even if she had to hide away in the castle walls to do it.

She waited for hours for the sun to set, knowing that there would most certainly be a guard to spot her out in the halls if she snuck out during daylight. That move would be idiotic. However, once the sun set, she got to work on sneaking out to her first entrance. First, however, she switched clothes, tugging on one of her many dirty white tunics and brown trousers and lacing on her boots to make the travel more comfortable. She glanced over at her nightstand, looking at the little flasks of medicine she’d need to take soon. Shrugging, she decided she could take it once she got back. It wouldn’t make much of a difference, anyway.

Slipping out her door, the pale girl looked both ways down the hall before quietly making her way down the hall towards a large green and orange tapestry. She clutched the embroidered fabric and pulled it aside, revealing a door that matched the walls around it, only identifiable by the thin slits that surrounded it. Sienna easily pushed it open and slipped through into the passage behind it. 

She gagged on the dusty air, spitting onto the ground to rid her tongue of the layer of dust that had travelled into her mouth. The last slivers of light disappeared as she delved deeper inside, keeping her hands on the walls and lightly grazing to find her indents. Her calloused fingers scratched against the rough stone as she made her way through, swiping away cobwebs with her free hand. Sienna carefully padded her way through, making sure to make no sound as she made her way towards the west wing of the Keep. Most people consorted closer to the south wing, but she knew the library in the west was generally abandoned and allowed her to spend hours alone, reading everything she could in the open space.

Sienna listened as her footsteps barely echoed around her as she reached her destination. She perked her ears up, listening for any whispers. So far, nothing. She huffed, bored with the silence around her as she made her way towards one of the entrances to the west library. She carelessly pressed her ear to the crack, making sure she heard no voices before pushing the entrance open and slipping down to the carpeted ground of the library.

The sound of her boots landing was absorbed by the carpet, keeping each footstep carefully quiet. Sienna let out a sigh of relief, throwing her hair back over her shoulders as she took in the wide open space around her. It may be quiet, and devoid of people in general, but it was hers. She’d chosen this space as her own, and no one challenged her on it. She quietly made her way through the stacks of books, brushing her fingers over the spines of each one she passed, looking for something new to read. 

As she came closer to the history section, Sienna heard something odd. She froze, listening closely to the air around her. The slightest whisper could be heard a few rows beside her, tickling her ears tauntingly.

Sienna knew that she should turn around, disappear into the passage and keep herself hidden. But something in her chest tugged her closer to the whispering, her curiosity peaked and need to see another person insatiable. In the end, her curiosity won out as she slowly made her way closer to the noise, careful to keep her steps as silent as possible.

“...safe for now”, she heard one voice whisper. 

One of the princess’ dark brows quirked up. She knew this voice, though not as well as some others. This was Jaime. What in seven hells was he doing in the library this late at night?

Sienna finally got close enough to peek through the shelves and look in on the conversation. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that her uncle was standing strangely close to her mother, her dressing gown wrapped loosely around her. His hands rested on her shoulders and his chin was lifted confidently in that way she’d only ever seen him be able to pull off. 

Her mother, in contrast, stood as stiff as she had in her room only hours earlier. Her golden hair lay limp on her shoulders, the braids from earlier loosened and framing her sharp face. The moonlight made her look oddly sallow and pale, something Sienna had never pictured her mother as. The image felt like something she wasn’t meant to see. This only made her more curious, leaning forward a little more to get a better view.

“Safe?”, Cersei whispered back, looking troubled, “How can we ensure that Ned Stark remains clueless? Him and his stubborn honor will be the death of us. And our children.”

Their… children?

Jaime gripped Cersei tighter, looking serious for a flash. “I won’t let anything happen to our children. Besides, we have a defense, should the need arise. There is no question Sienna is Robert’s child, we can say that the other three simply took after you.”

Sienna stood shock still, feeling her blood run cold as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.

“He may leave Sienna, even try to throne her if Robert is taken care of”, her mother hissed, her brows drawn together as she stepped closer to Jaime, “But what of the others? Don’t you think Ned Stark would want some sort of compensation for his own son?”

“Stark isn’t the type for revenge”, Jaime reassured her easily, his arms slinking around Cersei in a way that made bile rise in Sienna’s stomach, “Besides, we’ve always had to deal with this. We’ve always danced on the knife’s edge, and we’ve always come back alive.”

The dark haired girl’s heart sunk and stomach retched as she watched Jaime’s hand sneak it’s way up to her mother’s jaw, drawing it up to his own and capturing her lips with his.

Without thinking, Sienna yelped and tripped back, trying to block her sight of the scene. Her shoulders knocked into the shelf behind her, sending several books clattering to the ground. The girl froze, her heart hammering as the sound echoed throughout the room. 

The sounds of Jaime and her mother stopped. To her horror, Sienna realized that they had heard her.

“Jaime”, Cersei hissed, her voice shaking slightly. 

At her mother’s words, Sienna heard the sound of metal against metal scraping together. Jaime had unsheathed his sword. And Sienna didn’t need to see them to realize they knew she was there.

Sienna whipped her head around, ready to run towards the passage when she realized that she was on the complete opposite side of the room. There was no way she could make it there unseen. Her ears pounded with the quiet rustling of Jaime’s boots on the carpet. 

“Show yourself”, Jaime’s voice echoed, his words easy and deadly at the same time.

Feeling her breath hitch in her throat, Sienna looked over her shoulder to see that the main entrance wasn’t that far away. Only a few rows. Without giving herself time to think or the sense to move quietly, the dark haired girl scrambled over herself and bolted towards the door, knocking a few more books over in the process like a fool.

As she ran, she heard Jaime’s footsteps speed up behind her, causing her to run faster. She ran chest first into the door, the wood handles smacking together and sending more echoes through the room. With shaking hands, Sienna wrenched the door open and threw herself through it, nearly tumbling to the ground as she did. Instead, she desperately kept her balance and kept running, feeling her body already beginning to give out as she did.

Sienna’s chest began to burn. She had never run this fast before. The room around her began to shift under her feet, but the pain could wait. As she rounded a corner, she turned her head for a fraction of a second, only to see Jaime stalking behind her.

He’d seen her.

Her green eyes widened and involuntary tears wrenched their way out of her eyes as her boots slapped against the stones. She turned another corner, trying in vain to find a room with a passage, but she was far from her usual areas, unsure of what lay behind each door. She heard Jaime’s boots not that far behind her, sending a rush of fear through her stomach

He didn’t call out to her, try to scare her with words. That was never his way, to begin with. Ande she realized he couldn’t alert the castle to what was happening, lest they ask why he was trying to kill the princess.

The only princess.

No, she couldn’t think about that now. She had to focus on getting the hell out of this place. 

The hallways blurred together as she ran. Bursts of dark blues and browns blinded her as she tried to keep herself from falling face first onto the flagstones beneath her. The hard ground never seemed so deadly before. Suddenly, out of the back of her mind, an idea came. The west wing wasn’t too far from the throne room, and she knew a way back from there.

Pushing herself even harder, Sienna quickly changed course and made her way towards the throne room. She could taste blood drip from her nose all the way into her mouth. The burn behind her nose and eyes was becoming unbearable as she pushed her body to it’s absolute limit. She nearly spit the blood out, but quickly gagged it down her throat. If she spit the blood out, it would leave a trail. 

Finally reaching the room, the dark haired girl dove into it, her feet echoing throughout the large room before she came to a screeching halt in front of the large red and black painting at the right end of the room.

It hadn’t saved the Targaryens, but it might just save her.

Quickly turning her head, Sienna checked to see if Jaime was near before shoving the painting aside. She slipped through the small opening before pulling the cover back into place, plunging herself in darkness. 

Taking a few careful steps back, Sienna waited. Her chest pounded so hard that she worried that Jaime would hear the thump of her heart. Covering her mouth so no one could hear her breathe, Sienna strained her ears to listen for her uncle’s footsteps. She could feel blood sticking between her fingers from her leaking nose, staining her skin red. After a few paralyzing seconds of silence, Sienna nearly jumped at the sound of careful footfalls. She could barely hear Jaime, but she could decipher the sound. He always sounded like a hunter stalking his prey. 

The soft steps stayed even as they began to pass the painting. Sienna felt her muscles shake as she gripped onto her mouth harder, keeping the sound of her breaths covered. Tears welled in her eyes. This could be the moment he found her. The moment she died.

Finally, Jaime passed the portrait and his footfalls became softer as he stalked down the hall. Sienna let out a shaky breath as she began to retreat. She slid her hands up the wall to try and find the indents on the stone, but her hands were shaking too violently. She stumbled over herself as she shoved herself through the thin passage, moving faster than she had ever dared to move in there. The stone scraped and scratched at her shoulders and arms, but the stinging only prompted Sienna to move faster. A sword would be worse than some stone. 

The halls were getting more and more confused. Sienna had never been to this part of the tunnels. There were no indents, no markers of where she was or where she would end up.

Her chest continued to burn more and more, the pain spreading to her lungs and Sienna’s breaths were becoming faster as she scrambled forward. Her head hurt as if someone had taken a war hammer to her skull and the hallway was beginning to blur. 

With a whimper, Sienna gave up on trying to find the directions on the walls and just ran wherever they took her. Keeping her hands stretched out in front of her, she let her hands guide her forward. Cobwebs tangled in her hair and lashes, dust coating her skin as she delved deeper and deeper into the tunnels, deeper into the dark. As she rounded another corner,l Sienna ran face-first into a wall. Her let out a cry, feeling her head jerk back and nose break, gushing blood even further down her face and neck.

“Fuck”, she sobbed, gripping her nose in her palm as tears streamed down her cheek. 

Reaching her free hand forward, she felt the wall that she had run into. To her surprise, it wasn’t a wall. Spreading her fingers across the smooth material, Sienna felt the surface carefully. It was smooth and cool, unlike the rough surface of the walls around her. Sliding her hand down, she felt a lump of cool metal. A knob. This was a door.

Sienna hesitated, hand hovering over the handle. This door could lead to somewhere in the castle for all she knew. It could take her right back to where she started. But, consequently, this door could also lead her to safety. There wasn’t much choice left, as it turned out.

“Damn it all”, she whispered, causing a sharp pain to rip up her nose. Cringing and holding tighter to her nose, Sienna placed her free hand on the knob and began to slowly turn it.

There was a creak. Sienna jumped and almost let go of the door like it had burned her. Trying to settle her pounding heart, Sienna took in a shaky breath before slowly opening the door. A gust of warm breeze hit Sienna in the face before she saw what lay outside. The door opened to show a muddy, crooked path that lead to nowhere.

Nowhere was better than the Red Keep.

Still clutching her bleeding nose, Sienna sloppily turned her head both ways, trying to see if anyone was near. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding in before stumbling out of the passage and tripping out onto the path. She broke out into a crooked run, nearly tripping over her own feet again as she did. The blur she had experienced in the passageways turned into a full tilt all around Sienna, sending the world sideways. The warm air made her feel damp, dirty. But she couldn’t faint, not now. 

If only she’d taken her medicine.

Pushing forward for what could have been minutes or hours or years, Sienna wove her way around the twisted path, never passing a soul. Slowly, far too slowly, Sienna could see buildings rising up in front of her, moonlight bouncing off the brick and wood houses. She could practically smell the city approaching. It smelled like shit.

Her heart had not stopped slamming itself against her chest nor had Sienna stopped looking over her shoulder the whole time, hair falling into her eyes as she did. Her mind was racing, always tricking her into thinking she saw Jaime running up behind her, sword at the ready to slice her head off and stick it on a spike.

While looking over her shoulder once again, Sienna felt her foot catch on a stone. Sprawling her hands out, she tripped and broke the fall with her hands, ripping the skin apart in the process. Her head began to burn, swirling in and out of full consciousness. 

Then, to her horror, she felt the muscles in her shoulders began to twitch.

“No”, she whimpered, “No no no no…”

Her shoulder blades started to spasm painfully and her knees gave way. The pain was simultaneously familiar and foreign. It had been so long since she’d had one, she’d almost forgotten how badly it hurt. In her seizing state, Sienna painfully twisted around on the dusty ground, back arching and eyes rolling back in her head like a monster. 

She tried to cry out, but only managed a gurgling sound as her throat closed around itself. The lack of air was sending lightning sharp pain up her nose and into her head. She clawed at the dirt, trying to drag herself up onto her feet. The dirt painfully stuck underneath her nails, but still she couldn’t pull herself up.

No one was near to help her. She had nobody left, no one who knew what to do when this happened. 

The world began to become darker, the spasms taking over completely. Her muscles were knotted, making it impossible to move without blinding pain. The world became a blur. Sienna knew she was about to faint. She never forgot how that felt. Despite the blur, she could still see the blood from her nose mixing with the dirt, creating a morbid splatter painting in the ground.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t run anymore. Jaime would find her out here, finish the job. Even if he didn’t, Sienna would die out here anyway. Some thief would kill her and take the boots from her feet. Why wouldn’t he? She was just some poor girl nobody knew.

For the first time since that night all those years ago, Sienna closed her eyes and waited for death.

\----

Cersei sped through the halls, calling out for Jaime as loud as she could without alerting the guards. She wrapped her robe tightly around her as she passed through another corridor, her chest burning with fear. Whoever it had been that had seen them had to be dealt with

“Jaime”, she called out, swiping her hair from her face, “Jaime!”

As she strode across the cobbled floors, something caught her eye. The door across from her was wide open, practically begging for someone to step out and catch her running through the halls. Taking a step back and straightening her robe, Cersei observed the door and realized that it belonged to Sienna.

With a shuddering sigh, she crossed the hall and entered the room. She had to make sure her daughter was unharmed. What if the stranger had found her after he had caught Cersei and Jaime? Gods, what would they do to her precious child?

“Sienna, my child you have to close your door. There is a-”

Cersei stared at the rumpled bed, realizing that her daughter was not there.

“Sienna?”, she breathed out, whipping her head around to find her daughter, but all there was were shadows.

“Sienna?”

She wasn’t supposed to be anywhere but her room. She didn’t know the castle well enough to find her way to a nurse. Gods, she could be lost, hurt, anything at all. Where in Seven Hells could she have-

And then, from the corner of her eye, a burst of white caught her attention. Something inside her told her that she didn’t want to see what she was about to see. Shaking, Cersei turned towards the bright spot to see a white tunic tucked into the corner. 

A white tunic identical to the one she had seen the stranger wearing.

“No”, Cersei choked out, dropping to her knees in front of the small pile of clothes.

It was all there. Every shred of proof she needed to identify the stranger who she had sent Jaime after. The white tunic, identical boots, Her medicine left untouched on the nightstand. 

Cersei’s breath began to choke her, her chest contracting painfully. Oh gods, she had sent Jaime to kill…

“Cersei.”

The golden haired queen whipped around to see Jaime standing in the doorway, a confused and worried expression twisting his face at the sight of her kneeling on the ground. He was still panting, clearly having run all the way over here. Had he…

“Did you find them?” Cersei choked out, fingers clutching the tunic she had found to her chest.

“I’m afraid-”

“Did you find them!”, she ripped out, barely keeping her voice below a scream. Her heart slammed in her chest as she glared up at her brother.

“I-”, he stammered, caught off guard by Cersei’s sudden ferocity, “No. I couldn’t find them. I’ll continue to search.”

Choking down a sob, Cersei turned back to the pile of clothes that had belonged to her beautiful child. The child she had just condemned to death. There was no way for her to survive alone. She wouldn’t last the night.

“It…”, she croaked, sobs trying to rip their way through her throat, “It was Sienna…”

Cersei payed not attention to Jaime’s response, his half thought out assurances. He’d never loved her like she had. It didn’t matter. Her daughter, her little black haired beauty was gone, and she had been the one to destroy her. 

Letting sobs rack her body, she clung tight to the tunic and prayed to the gods that they make her daughter’s death painless.


End file.
